


The Only Gift Worth Giving

by Frumpologist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13293981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/pseuds/Frumpologist
Summary: After regretfully choosing Harry’s name for a gift exchange, Pansy decides to give him the only gift worth giving.





	The Only Gift Worth Giving

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silvernatasha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvernatasha/gifts).



> This was a Smutty Claus gift (2013) for silvernatasha. And so much fun to write. XD

It took a grand total of fifteen minutes for Pansy to bore of the laborious task of finding a gift for her co-auror-in-training, Harry Potter. Why couldn’t she have just chosen Lavender Brown or, hell, even Neville Longbottom. Simple and poor; they’d be grateful for any cheap knickknack she threw wrapped up. Easy as pie.

But no, she wasn’t a lucky sort of girl. In fact, her entire life dedicated itself to complicated, unlucky escapades. Hell, even getting into the Auror Academy was a pickle. Theoretically, Pansy never should have been accepted into the program, given her history with You-Know-Who.

But someone, an unnamed saint, vouched for her.

When she first unrolled the parchment with Harry’s scribbled name written on it, Pansy looked at his list, thought it was stupid, and threw it in the bin. Now, however, as she shopped through Diagon Alley, she wished she’d held onto it. What did you get the Boy Who Lived, the Boy Who Had Enough Money to Buy a Small Country? Pansy smirked; perhaps Potter had his uses after all.

She gave up after another five minutes of perusing Quality Quidditch Supplies. Something would come to her. What she really needed was a chance to loosen up, enjoy herself a little bit. Shopping always helped her unwind. Pansy abandoned the hovering shopkeeper without a word and swiftly made her way toward Madame Malkin’s.

Her foul mood evaporated the very second that the welcoming scent of cotton and fresh linen invaded. Gone was the pinched scowl on her face and the clamped hands at her hips. Her lips broke open over her teeth and her dark eyes glittered as they settled on the new Pucey Collection that Malkin carried.

Fingers gingerly caressing the soft, silk fabric of an emerald gown, Pansy groaned with desire. She didn’t need more clothes and there was nowhere she could really wear formal dress robes anymore – not unless she wanted to actually face Draco at his family’s yearly Christmas gathering, which she didn’t – and the price was astronomical compared to the meager amount that her parents afforded her every month. She sighed and dropped the material from between her fingers. In an attempt to avoid pure torture, Pansy slunk away from the expensive rack of dress robes and moved gracefully towards the more affordable items.

That’s when she saw it: plush, velvet, red and white. There was barely enough material to hide her full backside and it came with a corset that dipped low between the breasts. Were those… bells dangling from the bottom?

Pansy smirked. Perhaps she found a present for Potter after all.

***

  
The Leaky Cauldron buzzed with jolly, lighthearted Christmas tunes as Pansy shoved her way through the clattering crowd. Her black robes hugged her body closely and clashed almost painfully against the other guests’ red and green (and very, disturbingly bright) choices of attire. No one paid her much attention as she slid between conversations and around awkward touching. She wasn’t sure just how many people were attending the gift exchange and auror training Christmas party, but she was sure that somewhere along the line, someone forgot to tell her that it included a plus-one invitation.

Groups were already split in the same way they were in the academy. Potter and his Weasel Sidekick stood watching the rest of the party from the sidelines, Longbottom, Lavender and a few other no-names were huddled together clanking glasses filled with frothy, amber liquid. It was times like that when Pansy would question her desire to become an Auror; when everyone in the Academy had a friend or someone to partner up with, she was alone and constantly wondering how to fit in. It wasn’t a problem she ever encountered.

More than once, she’d written a letter of resignation and then set it ablaze before sending it off with her quickest owl.

And it wasn’t like she could skip an event like this and make things any easier on herself, either. If she refused to participate, she’d be “Pug-Faced Pansy Parkinson, slag, bitch extraordinaire” just as it was for all her years through Hogwarts.

Her stomach rolled when she heard Potter’s booming laugh from across the room. Maybe her gift hadn’t been the best idea. No one had noticed her entrance, if she could exit just as quietly as she entered no one would know she’d even bothered.

As soon as the thought nestled itself in her mind, Pansy felt her legs carry her around the same gleeful chatter towards the door. Just as her hand gripped the handle, she felt someone at her back. Dreading the answer to the internal question of who could possibly have noticed her quick exit, Pansy turned around and found herself pinned between the twinkling lights decorating the door and Harry.

“Leaving so soon?” He asked, smile tugging the edges of his cheeks.

Pansy shrugged. “I have other things to do.”

“And your Secret Santa gift?” A thick brow quirked over his eye as he glanced down to her empty hands and back up to her scowling face. “You could always pay the bar tab for whoever’s name you chose.”

It was sweet that he tried, Pansy thought. But if he only knew what she really had planned for the evening… well, it was best to leave it alone. Resignation first thing Monday. By owl. After she vacated England and took up Healing in an unheard-of foreign land on Sunday.

Her face heated up and her hands moved to the belt that secured the black robes to her slight figure.

“Pansy.”

Harry stepped closer. It left only a breath of space between them. She swallowed and glanced over his shoulder. Neville’s hand was at the small of Lavender’s back and she was staring up at him with the most ridiculous grin on her face.

Pansy snapped her eyes back to Harry and sighed.

“Look, Potter. I appreciate that you’re trying to be the hero again, okay? But, all this, it’s just not my thing. I’m better suited for the formal, uptight Christmases in Bali and the-”

“Pansy.” He was closer still.

What was he doing? His stare was fixed on her glossy lips, his hips pressed into hers.

“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Pansy’s whisper blew out of her lips and hung in the air between them.

“Probably,” he answered just as quietly. His face flushed but it didn’t stop him from reaching behind her head and holding her steady as his lips descended on hers for the merest fraction of a second.

“’The hell was that?” Pansy demanded, her eyes blazing into his.

“I’m not entirely sure…” Harry didn’t move. He held her stare and lowered his mouth to hers again.

His kiss was pleasant, not too wet, not sloppy or dull. Still, it threw Pansy for a loop as he gently traced her lips with his tongue and sought more feeling. When she finally relented, her hands were no longer dangling at her sides. She wrapped herself around him, pulled him closer and closer while he backed them against the door and ran his hands up and down her sides, kneading her flesh over the inconvenient robes that blocked his skin from hers.

After several minutes, the evening came back into focus. The music rang joyfully through her ears again, the brightness filtered back into her hazy vision, and the fact that Harry Potter’s hard on was pressed against her hip suddenly sprung to the forefront of any thought she could muster.

Ripping herself away from the Boy Wonder, Pansy’s alarm only intensified when she caught Weasley’s pale face across the room, staring at them.

“Mistletoe.”

She vaguely registered Harry’s harsh voice in her ear. Weasley was busy gesturing quite rude fingers in her direction. Pansy scowled at the flaming freckled boy and slowly brought her attention back to Scarhead, er, Harry.

“What?” Her voice seemed like it was a million miles away from her. Suddenly, she felt as if a fire was lit in her chest and a lion was clawing at her stomach.

“Enchanted mistletoe.” Harry put a finger to Pansy’s chin and forced her gaze upward. Sure enough, dangling right at the entrance of the Inn was a sprig of green and white. Mistle-fucking-toe.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the door. Of course. Complicated, thy name is Pansy Parkinson.

“Don’t leave.” His request nearly faded into the chorus of music that echoed around the wooden room. “You should at least stay for the exchange. I’ll buy you a drink.”

Wide eyed at his offer, Pansy nodded slowly and allowed him to lead her by the hand to the bar for what was bound to be the most awkward beverage in the history of Wizarding kind. The only thing that Pansy could think would top it would have been You-Know-Who casually sharing a drink with… well, anyone.

“You don’t have to be so kind to me, Potter. Your little pet seems to be in fits.” Pansy pointed a slim finger towards the redhead in dark red robes.

“That’s not necessary, you know.” He shoved a stout glass of amber liquid into her hand and raised his glass before downing the lot. “Ron’s a git, but he means well.”

“You’ll never live that kiss down.” She sipped on her drink; Pansy and firewhiskey never became best friends. In fact, most alcohol did nothing apart from upset her stomach.

“Neither will you.” Harry smiled at her again.

“Lucky for me, none of my friends wanted to join the Aurors.” Her wry response was met with comfortable silence.

“Do you want to dance, Parkinson?”

No. Pansy’s mind kept saying it, over and over again, but it didn’t stop her from taking Harry’s proffered hand and walking with him to the circle of people who created a makeshift dance floor in the middle of the Inn.

He brought her hand to his neck and then placed both of his on her hips. She prayed that the belt holding her robes together wouldn’t come loose.

After several minutes of uncomfortable swaying, Harry’s hand rose languidly from her hip, following the curve of her side all the way up to her chin and stopped. The bespectacled face smiled at her, just a tiny, sliver of comfort, and he planted a chaste kiss on her mouth.

When he pulled away, his eyes were fixed on her lips. “Can’t blame that on mistletoe.”

Pansy glanced up. No mistletoe in sight. Right.

“I have to go.” She scampered away from him, bumped into a couple of very hard bodies, and wheeled around to the door.

Before she could open it and make her grand escape, Harry’s arm caught her about the waist and yanked her back against his solid body. He held her in place while she struggled to get away from him.

“Please don’t go.”

“Potter. Look. This just isn’t a good idea. You have friends to exchange gifts with and I have. To. Go.”

She pulled away, paused only to spin around and glare at him, and then flew out of the door of the Leaky Cauldron and into the alley way. A few taps and she’d be in Diagon Alley. She’d apparate home. Forget the night ever happened.

“Pansy, before you go-”

“Are you kidding me?” She growled under her breath when Potter closed the door behind him.

“Sorry, I just need to know whose gift I need to supplement. Whose name did you draw for the exchange?”

Right. The exchange. The bloody nightmare of her life at the moment.

“You, Potter. I drew your name.” She was angry and the words spit from her mouth. She just wanted the damn night to be done. It was all a very bad idea.

“Interesting.” Potter was staring at the ground between them, sort of kicking his feet in a stupid, adorable way. She really hated him. Except, she didn’t, which was really infuriating.

“It’s not interesting. It’s the opposite of interesting. It’s… uninteresting.” Pansy couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t tapping the bricks already. Her face was hot, her body was thrumming, and Potter was just standing there looking like someone stole his favorite broom from the closet. “I’ll send your gift with my owl tomorrow.”

Lie. She didn’t have a gift for him. Not one that she was willing to give him anyway. Pansy instinctively ran her hands over her stomach and wrapped her arms around herself as if she was exposing her secret.

“Wait here. Don’t… just, don’t leave, alright?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer. Potter simple bounced through the door and left her alone again. It was the perfect opportunity to leave, but for some reason her legs wouldn’t guide her to the brick wall. She stayed perfectly still, hugging herself and waiting for the incorrigible Harry Potter to return. Because, of course, that was bound to be the best idea she ever had.

Pansy kicked a random rock on the ground and scolded herself. An idiot, that’s what she was. Constantly after things that were no good for her, ever since she could remember. In what twisted universe would she ever kiss Harry Potter? Pansy grunted a scream that never passed her lips.

“Are you quite finished?”

Pansy’s eyes snapped to the door where Harry was standing, holding a large box wrapped in white paper with a red ribbon. Her face flamed and paled at the same time, unsure which was the greater emotion at the moment: embarrassment or, nope, that was it.

“You shouldn’t leave without opening your gift.”

In one long step, he was standing close to her and shoving the gift into her hand. She didn’t remember grasping it or glancing uneasily into his eyes. All she registered was the weight of the box. Potter placed her hand on the ribbon and it took her only a second to begin ripping at the paper. Underneath the paper was a white box. Scrawled on the box in gold writing was “Malkin’s”. Pansy held her breath as she tore the top off of the box.

It was the emerald gown she eyed in the shop. Her gaze flew to Harry’s and the smirk embedded in his cheeks. Astonishment decorated her features; wide eyes, mouth open. She was breathless.

“Who…?”

“Merry Christmas from your Secret Santa.”

That was it. All it took.

Pansy threw the box to the ground and launched herself into Harry’s arms. He wasn’t expecting it and the tumbled slightly until his weight balanced her and they were pressed so close together that they were almost one body, one person. Pansy’s lips collided with his, tongue not bothering to ask permission and instead snaking into his mouth to take control of the kiss. Their hands were up and down so quickly that it was almost impossible to tell which belonged to whom.

She pushed him backwards until his body crashed against the wall. Part of her registered the bits of litter around their feet, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Potter was going to get the gift. The only gift she knew would be worth it.

With an almost inhuman surge of willpower, Pansy disentangled herself from his embrace. Her rough breathing was the only thing that belied her sudden loss of control. Hands placed playfully on his chest, Pansy pushed herself away and coyly smiled as took small steps backwards, never dropping eye contact. When her fingers slid off of his chest, she placed them on the tie of her belt and unsecured it. Two simple shrugs of her shoulders and the black robe fell to the ground.

It was Potter’s turn to become red and slack jawed.

Pansy held out her hands and spun around in a slow circle. The bright red and white corset snuggled against her body and hugged her curves. The dip of the fabric between her breasts revealed smooth, pale skin and just a flash of full, round cleavage. Her legs were half-covered in white stockings that enhanced the shapeliness of her legs. And, as she followed Potter’s eyes traveling up her legs, Pansy could see the delight beaming from him when he caught the short hem of her skirt, barely covering the tops of her thighs.

She shimmied her hips and smirked as the bells around the skirt jingled. Potter’s hard swallow could be heard even from where she was standing.

“Merry Christmas.” Pansy licked her lips, preparing for what was bound to be the snog of her life. “From your Secret Santa.”

“D-” Harry cleared his throat and tried twice more before the words came out. “Did you plan on seducing me with… this?”

Nodding, Pansy smirked and closed the distance between them again. She placed her lips to Harry’s earlobe and whispered. “This is the part where you beg, darling.”

Harry was having none of it. He didn’t beg, he merely scooped her into another embraced and thoroughly ravaged her with delicious, long strokes of his tongue against hers. He pushed forward until it was her back against the wall and then his hands began touring her slender body. The persistent jingle of her skirt grew louder and more frantic as his hand slid up the soft flesh of her leg towards the apex of her thighs.

His lips moved to the corner of her mouth, both of them wearing the same small grin on their faces. “No panties?”

She shook her head and he groaned.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Harry pulled away from her mouth as his fingers slid into the wet folds between her legs. He moved casually through the heat in a rhythm that kept in beat with whatever tune was playing inside of the Inn.

Pansy careened under his touch, rolling her hips to keep the pace with his fingers. Her fingers splayed against the cool wall and curled into the brick to find something, anything, to keep her tethered to reality.

“I see you in training and I ache from wanting you so badly.” Harry nibbled on the sensitive skin where her collarbone met her chest. He tantalizingly moved his mouth down, down, down, until his chin was pulling the bust of the corset down and her plump cleavage was greeting his teeth.

“I think of your skin. Your lips. Your breasts.”

Pansy cried out as his teeth grazed her nipple. She didn’t even feel the cold of the night until his tongue swirls around her bud and the breeze sweeps across it.

“I wanted to know the noises you’d make. The soft pants of breath. The hitch in your throat. The thudding of your heart. Just for me.”

She bucked against his fingers. So close. He inserted a finger and then two, and his thumb caressed her clit. And she was finished. Pansy shook, noise lost in her throat as her entire body went rigid and then limp.

Harry’s chest rumbled, somewhere between a growl and a groan, as he pulled his fingers from her and caught her lips with his again.

“Room,” Pansy muttered, still dazed from the explosion from her body.

Half a second and they were in a small room inside the Leaky Cauldron. Harry pushed her to the bed and was flat on her back as soon as they gained their bearings. He glided up her body, hands trailing along the flesh and fabric, dancing on her, making her shiver. Noises she couldn’t recognize flew from her throat.

Harry rubbed his erection against her and it was the only hint she needed to pop the buttons off of his trousers and help to pull them down. Her hand slid along his shaft, tentatively touching and applying pressure as she stroked him.

He pulled away for only a moment and positioned himself on top of her. Taking one of her stocking covered legs into his hand, he raised it over his shoulder and then balanced himself between her legs.

Pansy’s fingers dug into his shoulder. Only moments ago she’d told him to beg and now she was the one to plead with him.

“Please, Potter. Now. Fuck me.”

He entered her in one, quick thrust – fierce, wild and deep. Still for only a passing breath, Pansy watched his eyes close, his face scrunch. The pulse from her body beckoned her to move. She gyrated her hips and he sprang into action. He pulled back and then snapped forward, somehow deeper and harder than before.

She shouted out, half in a moan of sheer delight and half in the ferocious need for more, faster, harder. Their bodies slapped together, sound almost drowned out by their heavy panting and guttural groans of exhilaration. Pansy whimpered when his pace slowed and just when she thought that her body was going to convulse again, Harry leaned over her body and tweaked a nipple between her teeth.

“Gods, yes,” she exhaled with all the breath she had in her lungs.

He pushed deeper, lifting her leg even higher on his shoulder. They moved together with strength and adrenaline that could only be superhuman. Magic buzzed around them and through them. Every tiny touch was heightened.

Harry stopped for only a moment and grabbed her other leg. He put it up with the other hit her in a different angle. Three strokes and she was done. Crying out and begging for him to take her and fuck her and use her and don’t. Ever. Stop.

That was all it took to send Harry over the edge. His cock pulsed inside of her and before he could withdraw, he spilled into her spasming body.

Their bodies were limp and tangled. Pansy’s hand stroked the dark hair atop his head, brushing long chunks away from his forehead and slicking it back with his sweat.

She wasn’t quite sure how and when she fell asleep that night. But, when she woke up, they were still a mass of limbs on the bed. Harry was slumbering peacefully with his face planted underneath the pillow she used to rest her head. She thought for a moment that she would apparate home.

When she woke up for the second time, sun was shining through the window and a hand was slowly stroking her back. A thin nail slid down her spine, sending tingles through her body. She smiled despite herself and snuggled her face deeper into the pillow.

Pansy wasn’t shamed. A giddy feeling was working its way from her flip-flopping stomach up to her face. She couldn’t stop smiling. Worse, she could feel Harry’s smile even though her back was to him.

“I was thinking about going to get breakfast,” he mumbled in a husky, morning voice.

She never wanted to leave the warmth of the bed. Her lips began to fall.

“And then I thought we could order room service. Strawberries. Cream.” His fingers moved along the bone of her hip, teasing their way closer to her thighs. “That is, if you want to keep the room another night?”

Barely able to squeak the words through her raw throat, Pansy rasped, “I’d like that, yeah.”

“I have a question, though.”

Pansy turned around just enough to see Harry propping himself on his elbow. His lips planted a tender kiss on the side of her neck. She didn’t respond, just contentedly sighed.

“Was that really your gift to me? You?” The warm breath of his laugh tickled the hairs at the nape of her neck.

“I thought I’d give you the only gift worth giving.”

And she had a feeling that it would also be the gift that kept on giving. 


End file.
